Franziska's Turnabout Birthday Gift
by BirdieGoBoom
Summary: Much to Franziska von Karma's dismay, it is once again her birthday, and someone has left her a present. Contains a bit of Edgeworth x OC, and many appearances of Franziska's whip.
1. Franziska's Turnabout Birthday Gift

Franziska von Karma surveyed her office with narrowed eyes; something was out of place. Atop the mountain of paperwork that was neatly stacked upon her desk, an extravagantly wrapped box stuck out like a sore thumb.

She could feel her grip tightening around the whip in her right hand. "What foolish fool would have put something so foolish on my desk?"

The prosecutor frowned as she walked over to a calendar that was hanging on the office's back wall. For some reason, Franziska found the familiar sound of her high-heeled, leather boots upon the wooden floor unsettling, and she had to suppress an involuntary shudder. After a brief moment of searching, her eyes widened in horror; two neatly printed words in the bottom right hand corner of the date read, "Franziska's Birthday". She herself was never quite sure why this date brought on a sense of dread, but she could already feel it spreading throughout her entire body. Franziska von Karma cringed, and tried to shake this unwanted emotion. However, one strange feeling still lingered, and she wasn't quite sure what it was...

With a frown still plastered across her face, the prosecutor removed the rectangular box from her wooden desk, careful not to disturb any of the many piles of important case files. The strange package was wrapped in maroon and gold paper, and a bow of the same colors was tied on the top.

It was then that Franziska shook the mysterious present, curious of its contents. Whatever was inside didn't budge, and the prosecutor could feel her face flush red in embarrassment. What a foolish thing she had just done, acting like an overexcited child on Christmas morning... A von Karma shouldn't stoop to that type of imperfect behavior. Looking down at her desk in disgust, she noticed a small golden envelope with her name signed on the front. This handwriting could only belong to none other than Rumia Tenshin, her "little brother's" fiancée.

Sighing, she gave in to the smile that had been spreading across her lips. This was so thoughtful… Usually, Miles was the only one who remembered her birthday, so she was pleasantly surprised that Rumia had cared enough to get her something. Carefully, Franziska removed the card from the envelope, not wanting to damage it.

_ Happy Birthday, Franziska. I actually bought this for you some time ago, thinking that it might come in handy. Come by our house for dinner tonight, if you have the time._

_ Rumia Tenshin_

It took a lot of will power to retain her composure as she read Rumia's letter; Franziska could hardly believe that her soon to be sister-in-law had gotten her a present, and even invited her to dinner… It might have been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

She gently placed her whip on the desk, for opening a present was a task that demanded the use of both of her hands. After slicing off the tape, she peeled off the wrapping paper, not even making the slightest tear. Much to Franziska's dismay, she found herself looking at another layer of the same paper. Her eyes narrowed as she slid off six more frustrating layers of wrapping. Finally, through her effort, a white box was revealed, and she could barely contain her excitement as she pried off the lid.

An expression of confusion replaced the look of pure bliss that had been on her face only moments ago as the prosecutor lifted a dreadfully thick thesaurus from the bottom of the box. She then noticed an exceptionally thin, blue strip of paper marking one of the pages. For lack of a better idea, Franziska von Karma turned to a page in the "f" section to find another blue paper underlining the word "fool".

Dumbstruck, she simply stood there until an insatiable rage consumed her. "You FOOL!" she yelled. "There is nothing wrong with my constant overuse of the word 'fool'!"

Blind with fury, Franziska picked up her whip, and struck the ominous stack of papers on the desk before her, causing them to scatter all across the room. "GRAAAAAAAAAAA!" she screamed, continuing to crack her whip.

Franziska von Karma's angry rampage had alerted everyone in the Prosecutor's Office, but only two were brave enough, or stupid enough, to investigate. Detective Dick Gumshoe and Prosecutor Winston Payne burst through the door, only to see the most terrifying spectacle playing out before them. A normal Franziska was one thing, but a raging Franziska was quite a different ordeal.

"Ms. v-von K-Karma?" Payne looked like he was going to wet himself as he struggled to utter those words.

"What's going on, pal?" Gumshoe bit his tongue after speaking; he had referred to her as "pal"! That was a mistake that would carry dire and most certainly painful consequences.

"FOOLISH FOOLS WHO FOOLISHLY ENTER MY OFFICE IN SUCH A FOOLISH MANNER!" Franziska brought her whip down upon poor Gumshoe, and lashed him about ten times. "YOU CALL YOURSELF A DETECTIVE WHEN YOU AREN'T EVEN CAPABLE OF CORRECTLY REFERRING TO YOUR SUPERIORS?!?!"

Gumshoe whimpered while Payne tried to make his escape, but no one could evade the penetrating glare of an enraged von Karma. Before the whip could claim yet another victim, Prosecutor Payne crashed right into the office wall.

"IDIOTIC IDIOT WHO IDIOTICALLY TRIED TO RUN FROM PUNISHMENT!" After lashing Payne fifteen times, she finally stopped to ponder the words that she had just spoken. Surprisingly, she found that she enjoyed using the word "idiot". She turned her gaze back to the two men lying in crumpled heaps on the floor; they looked like they were in an excruciating amount of pain. "Get out of my office, Payne."

The Prosecutor quickly struggled to crawl out of the room, fearing that he would be hit again.

"And you," she said as she glanced over at Detective Gumshoe, "clean this up for me."

"Yes sir!" the detective's response was muffled, as he was still lying with his face directly on the wooden floor.

A smile once again crossed her lips; she would have to thank Rumia for the gift at dinner tonight. It was definitely going to come in handy in the future, since she was in vast need of some new names to call Gumshoe.


	2. Turnabout Marvelous Mint Latte

Sighing, Prosecutor Franziska von Karma rubbed her temples in a vain effort to rid herself of a throbbing headache that she had acquired.

"Is something wrong, sir?" inquired Detective Dick Gumshoe, who had observed the tortured expression on his superior's face. He had come to her office to bring her the latte that she had requested almost an hour ago.

"What took you so long?" she questioned; her tone of voice was scary calm.

The detective instinctively stood up straighter and said, "The line was extremely long sir, and the nearest coffee shop is a few miles away-"

"I'm not in the mood for your excuses, Mr. Scruffy Detective." Franziska held out one of her hands to receive the Styrofoam cup, not even bothering to look up from her work.

Without another word, Gumshoe gave the prosecutor her latte, and hurried out the door.

He had only taken a few steps into the hallway when he heard the woman shout, "Just what exactly is this?!?" The detective cringed, for he knew he was in trouble.

"S-sir?" he stammered as he cautiously stepped back into the office. Franziska was glaring at him in disgust, while brandishing her trusty leather whip in her right hand.

"Tell me, Mr. Scruffy Detective... Are you even capable of completing a task as simple as getting me a coffee?"

"I would hope so, sir..." the detective replied sheepishly.

"Wrong answer." Franziska's whip lashed Gumshoe for the eleventh time that day. "You can't even bring me the correct variety of a latte!" she scowled, as the room had fallen completely silent. "What do you have to say in your defense?"

He thought about his trip to the coffee shop for a few moments, and then it came to him. "Well, I remember ordering a Marvelous Mint Latte with whipped cream and caramel... I even asked the man at the counter for some of those sprinkles that you like so much... I think someone took your coffee by mistake, and we ended up with theirs..."

"Take it back." the prosecutor ordered, forcing the detective to take the latte. "Be prompt; I have to leave in thirty minutes, and I won't stand to be late for dinner because of your inability to retrieve coffee."

Gumshoe ran out the door, Styrofoam cup in hand, to the coffee shop. He most certainly did not want to be hit with Franziska's whip again.

"Idiot..." she muttered as she watched the detective bolt out the door. The prosecutor then went back to the mundane task of reviewing the case files that were piled high on the desk before her.

Franziska von Karma must have truly gotten absorbed in her work, for she did not notice that Detective Dick Gumshoe had returned, holding yet another Styrofoam cup in his hand.

"H-here you go, s-sir..." he could barely speak, since he was almost completely out of breath. The traffic was so atrocious, that the poor man had decided to run the three mile distance to and from the busy coffee shop. It was nothing short of a miracle that he wasn't found dead and covered in Franziska's latte somewhere on the busy streets.

Although she would never admit it, the prosecutor did feel a bit sorry for the disheveled detective that was standing before her. "Thank you." she almost had to force herself to utter those words as she took the latte from Gumshoe. "I'm going to leave now, but you may want to sit down... It wouldn't benefit either of us if you died." she stood up in a graceful manner that could only be executed by a von Karma, took her coat off of the rack, and started out the door. "Oh, and Mr. Unkempt Detective? Please lock up when you leave."

Gumshoe nodded, and began to unconsciously ponder the new word that Ms. von Karma used to describe him. Mr. Scruffy Detective versus Mr. Unkempt Detective... They sounded equally degrading, but he wasn't about to complain.


	3. Turnabout Dinner Party

Finally, after an incredibly long and exhausting day, Franziska von Karma arrived at the home that her "little brother" and his fiancé shared. However, the word "home" is not quite the right term to describe a structure such as this. What she gazed upon was a mansion that defined the very word. The monstrous maroon structure that loomed before her was, in her opinion, much too large for its two inhabitants.

Gingerly, she reached out, and pressed the button for the doorbell that hung to her left. She could faintly hear the sound of chimes playing an unfamiliar tune echoing from inside the mansion. Tapping her toes impatiently, she waited for someone to open the door.

It was then that a ker-chunk sound came from inside, and the huge wooden door slowly creaked open to reveal the familiar face of Rumia Tenshin. The slim brunette standing before her smiled, and said, "Franziska! I'm so thrilled that you managed to make it!"

A grin crossed the prosecutor's lips. "I appreciate the invitation."

Rumia proceeded to lead Franziska inside, and then silently closed the door behind them.

The entryway that they had casually walked into was even more extravagant than the structure's outside: spotless white carpet lined the two spiral staircases, and expensive looking maroon and gold furniture was strategically placed around the foyer. It was obvious to Franziska von Karma that Miles had chosen the color scheme, since there seemed to be something maroon everywhere she looked. Her gaze then strayed to the glass chandelier that hung directly above her head, and she wondered just how pricey something like that was. Not wanting to appear rude, she hastily removed her high-heeled, black leather boots from her feet, and placed them in the closet, along with her coat.

Once Franziska had completed this task, Rumia began to walk to the left of the grand staircase, and motioned for her guest to follow. The prosecutor obediently did so, but she was careful to stay a polite distance from her hostess.

"So," Rumia began as the two women made their way to the dining area, "what did you think of the gift that I had left in your office?"

For a few moments, Franziska von Karma thought back to the afternoon's events, and she started to laugh. "Let's just say that your clever package caused me a bit of trouble, but it will most certainly be put to good use." She could not see the expression on Rumia's face; however, she imagined that the other woman was struggling to suppress a grin. It seemed likely that the brunette had already heard the full story of what had occurred at the Prosecutor's Office earlier that day.

"I'm sorry that it caused you even the slightest of problems…" By this time, Franziska and Rumia had arrived at their destination, only to find that Miles Edgeworth had been patiently waiting for them.

A smirk spread across Franziska's lips as she brought her whip down upon Rumia's back. Although the lash was playful, and virtually painless, the cracking noise echoed throughout the vast dining hall.

Miles wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange spectacle that had just occurred, so he raised his left eyebrow in confusion. Had his fiancé done something to incur his "sister's" wrath?

Before he could process a response, Rumia Tenshin began to giggle uncontrollably. "I suppose that's you favorite form of revenge, Franziska."

The prosecutor nodded while trying to suppress her own laughter, and she noticed that her "little brother" had also joined in, signaling that he knew all of the details pertaining to her rampage at the Prosecutor's Office.

"It seems as though you had quite the temper tantrum, Franziska." Miles stated jokingly, after the group's giggle fit had come to a close.

She had to resist the powerful impulse to lash her "brother" once with her whip, but the urge instead manifested itself when her grip tightened around her trusty leather companion. "Hmph." She mumbled, crossing her arms.

"We should eat." Rumia said as she removed the lids from the serving platters that were scattered across the table. "I'm not a fan of cold food."

Miles and Franziska nodded in agreement, and proceeded to take their seats at the round table, which was, in Franziska's opinion, out of place in a vast dining room such as this.

"Sparkling Cider?" Rumia prompted, holding out a green glass bottle.

"Please." The prosecutor replied, while shifting slightly in her chair. She watched as Rumia carefully poured the golden liquid into her glass, not spilling even a single drop. She frowned, for she was having difficulty finding a single fault in her "little brother's" fiancé to complain about.

"Are you feeling okay, Franziska?" Rumia asked, noticing the look of pure disappointment on her guest's face.

"I'm quite alright." There was one thing that Franziska von Karma was absolutely terrible at doing outside of the courtroom, and unfortunately for her, it was lying. The prosecutor was certain that her hostess had seen through that obvious fib, and she immediately regretted saying anything. Instinctively, she bit her tongue to prevent herself from uttering words that would cause her further embarrassment.


End file.
